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UNITED CHARITIES REFUSE TO PROVIDE
NECESSITIES FOR A DYING MAN
On a small cot at 2334 Coblentz
street, emaciated from a year-long
illness, Frank Magnus is painfully
moving from side to side, unable to
find a place to rest his aching body
for want of a rubber pad. There is
no gauze or cotton to clean and bind
two gaping wounds. No money for
medicine nor nourishing food.
Magnus, a piano finisher by trade,
has a sick wife and a child six years
old. A year ago he became ill. Two
operations were performed and his
little horde of savings spent for hos
pital and medical attendance.
Meanwhile his wife contracted tu
berculosis. Six months ago Mrs. Magnus ap
plied for aid. Two months passed
before the United Charities' investi
gators came.
Since then they have been inves
tigating. His friends have been in
terviewed; his employers appealed to
and his family and relatives dunned.
Two investigators have been busy
six months. A dozen visits made, a
thousand questions asked, but not
one cent contributed towards the
support of the sick man and wife.
There is a piano in the house, cur
tains on the windows and a rug on
the floor. One investigator said,
"What beautiful furniture. Why
don't you sell it?"
"The piano is the property of my
brother," Mrs. Magnus explained.
"The furniture bought on the instal
ment plan. On the stove alone we
owe seventeen dollars."
"But doesn't your husband's
father own this house?" asked the
investigator.
"So he does," was the reply.
"There is a $2,000 mortgage on it, he
is seventy years old and his wife has
been sick for 25 years. He lets us
have these rooms, rent free, depriv
ing himself of things he and his sick
wife should have."
"How about your own father?" the
investigator demanded.
"He has a wife and six little chil
dren and only earns $1.75 a day,"
Mrs. Magnus patiently explained.
"But," the investigator continued,
"it would take $40 a month to keep
this place."
"We don't want $40," was the re
plyi "just a little aid enough to buy
cotton and gauze, get medicine and
eggs, and we would manage some
how to get along."
"Then why don't you go to work?"
the investigator asked.
"I am ill myself," Mrs. Magnus ex
plained. "I have tuberculosis and
must go to the dispensary every day.
And I must attend my. sick husband."
"You see," the investigator ex
plained, "we never pay more than
six dollars a month for rent and
furnish the required supplies."
"How would a dollar do?" she
asked after some deliberation.
"Couldn't you make it $5 a
month?" Mrs. Magnus asked,
"enough to get the necessary cotton,
gauze and medicine."
Highly indignant at such a demand
the investigator left, forgetting to
leave the paltry dollar.
They paid his employers, the
Schultz Piano Company, a visit.
The employer gave $25 for the
sick man. They doled it out in $5
instalments. Afraid, perhaps, the
sick man would go on a spree if given
to him at once.
Send your husband to County Hos
pital and store your furniture they
next suggested.
"What about myself and child?"
Mrs. Magnus asked.
"Let your father take care of you,"
was the immediate reply.
The sick man grows weaker and
thinner and moves restlessly about
for want of a rubber pad, his wounds
are unattended for want of gauze and
medicine and his sick wife wonders
IMAMflai